


A Night To Remember

by gayexol



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Ambushes and Sneak Attacks, Breaking and Entering, Buckingham Palace, Debauchery, Fluff and Humor, Happy Ending, Late at Night, Light Angst, London, M/M, Murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-21 23:53:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11955363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayexol/pseuds/gayexol
Summary: Jacob Frye isn't a complicated man. He just happens to indulge himself the finer things in life- robbery, killing, general anarchy. And in a life as especially hectic, unpredictable, and drunken as his is, if that means that he grabs his closest companion Ned Wynert and "encourages" him to go break into Buckingham Palace in the middle of the night together, so be it.





	A Night To Remember

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this a while ago and thought fuck, guess i might as well share it with yall lol  
> i dedicate this to my boys jacob and ned, what wild young men am i rite?

It’s one of those nights that Britain rarely sees outside of the spring season, where even though the night is cooled by the ashy wind, the alleyways and underpasses of London still have a lazy, sprawling sort of heat that clings to the sun-soaked cobblestones.

In other words, it’s an absolute _perfect_ night for carefree debauchery and wicked depravity, just the way Jacob likes it.

Mind you, he is still committed to the general “theme” of professionalism that the Assassin’s syndicate holds, but most of it has worn away, passages of rules tumbling out from his head and instead swirling in the darkened mug of ale Jacob cheerily swings around most nights.

It’s the truth, be all, end all. Sure, Jacob should aim to mastery his abilities and hone his assassin prowess, but too often his gaze is blocked by a swift left hook to his jaw, or focused on balancing kegs on his shoulders, or watching his own fingers slip into a noblemen’s coffers.

As much as Jacob is enthralled by the certainly entertaining side of London’s underground nightlife, nothing will ever quite seem to capture his attention as much as the night itself does. He loves nothing more than moving like ink underwater, becoming entirely merged with darkness, barely noticeable.

A living shadow. The thought fascinates him.

And so, when the moon rises high over the smoke-tinged skyline of the wonderful city of London, Jacob finds himself heading out of the train and into the soot-stained streets, a smirk broad on his face. This time around, however, he has his sights set on something more affluent than what he’s used to.

Ned will _love_ this.

Or, that’s the intention. The man is almost unbearably stubborn when it comes to leaving the train after dusk falls, but that just makes it all more fun for Jacob. With the vague promise of wealth, Jacob led the two of them out of the normal burrows and across the Thames.

After a while, they had finally found the right street leading into Westminster, their journey momentarily halted only a few times. Hours before, Jacob had gotten them quite lost, every endless side street and similarly ramshackle tenement block blending into a sordid haze of uncertainty.

Ned huffed and puffed when Jacob stopped to rest, gently plucking a flower from an overgrown garden nestled deep within a park they decided to cross. He sat down on nearby bench, folding his legs, gloved fingertips tracing the fragile petals of the flower he held between his thumb and forefinger.

“What a lovely night. You agree, Wynert?”

“The only thing that will be lovely is when I kick your ass in the next ten seconds, Frye.”

And so their outing continued.

But, no late night of criminal activity would be right without chugging at least one discolored ale, wouldn’t it? When Jacob and Ned got that off the table, their route to Westminster continued, albeit with a little more stumbling.

In all honesty, Jacob had known exactly where they were. He wasn’t lost, not for a second. It’s a game, isn’t it? A bread crumb trail for Ned to follow, more clues added on the more they stopped around the city. He wasn’t catching on so quickly, though.

They weren’t in some deserted plaza; they were located directly a mile East of Parliament. They weren’t tucked away in an abandoned alcove, or passing through a sprawling warehouse; they were just a few minutes’ walk from Big Ben.

The definitive change in scenery didn’t pique Ned’s interest until he finally realized, as they were strolling down a neat sidewalk straddling a well-organized garden, that they were in the wealthier part of London.

Jacob tucked his hands into his pockets and glanced over his shoulder when Ned spoke up. “Jacob, please explain to me _why_ we’re in a borough that looks suspiciously like Westminster?”

Jacob could nearly feel the man’s disgruntled expression.

The second he didn’t respond, Ned sped up his pace so he could catch up to Jacob on the sidewalk and glare at him through those poncy spectacles of his. “Just wanted to stop by Buckingham Palace, that’s all,” Jacob murmured, relaxed voice smooth as silk.

Ned paused his stride and balled his fists up, eyes narrowing when he realized this extensively planned charade. “No. Jacob, tell me you’re not.”

Jacob didn’t care to respond, he just cocked his head a bit and continued to lead Ned down the street, whistling without a care as he did so. Ned got his answer from the sly little grin creeping up his cheeks though; Jacob’s eyes gleamed with mischief underneath the murky sky.

“By God, are you out of your mind? We are not breaking into the Palace! You can get away with a lot of things, I know that, but this,” Ned laminated, gesturing towards Westminster,” this is too much, even for you.

“Hm. Is that a challenge?”

“ _Frye_ ,” Ned sounded like he wanted to wring Jacob’s neck.

“Fine. _We_ won’t break into the Palace. I will.” Jacob gave Ned a final lingering stare and turned on his heel, the long cape of his cloak shuffling down the street.

“You take me all the way out here just to tell me to sod off? Is this fun for you, Jacob? Being a brute?” Ned sighed, folding his arms across his chest.

Jacob paused his stride, turning his head slightly in consideration of what Ned had whispered. He quirked his lips, trying to think of a response, and then turned around and leaned against an iron-rod fence. “Ned, you can still come with me. Keep an eye out for guards, and I promise I’ll give you the most extravagant luxuries this side of the Hemisphere.”

Ned untucked his arms and nodded his head once in acceptance of Jacob’s offer, taking a few steps towards Jacob. “And what if we get caught?”

“We won’t. I’ll make sure of that,” Jacob confidently stated, turning his wrist over just in time for the both of them to see a sharpened metal blade come out of his gauntlet. “C’mon, follow me. We don’t need to get spotted by coppers before we even reach the Palace.”

The duo turned once more, running quickly down the cobblestone street, Jacob’s eyes wandering for possible entry points and guards as they approached Buckingham Palace.

The massive grounds of the almost castle-like mansion would seem imposing to the average visitor, but what Ned didn’t know is that Jacob had been eyeing the Palace for days now, studying the guard rotations, staff-only entrances, and escape routes.

He could’ve done it by himself, but it wouldn’t feel right if he didn’t bring Ned along. Evie most certainly would have tried to turn Jacob in or dissuade him, as prim as she is. Besides, he would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that having Ned here made it all that much more entertaining.

Every second Jacob gets to spend with Ned feels worth it.

Jacob hid the heart-sick grin he had across his lips as the two of them rounded the corner, finding that they were facing a wide open field that separated them and Buckingham Palace. Jacob knew what this was; it was the outdoor reception court, with gas lamps situated on each corner and delicate paper decorations swaying between them.

As mesmerizing as the rarely seen lamps were, all they did at this time at night was illuminate any ill-meaning trespasser trying to cross into the Palace grounds. Jacob huffed, considering his options when two guards on patrol stepped out of the bushes and into sight.

Jacob quickly bent down, one knee scraping into the dirt as one hand dug into the earth in order to stabilize him. Ned copied the action, crouching down and waiting on Jacob to announce their plan. Jacob was busy overthinking all possible ways of entry, though; window access seemed preferable, but what about dispatching the lookouts? What if one of them distracted the guards, or-

“You take out the taller cop walking funny across the yard, I got the smaller one on the left, yeah? Simple,” Ned whispered, pointing at their respective adversaries before taking out a polished blade from deep within his peacoat.

Jacob’s lips parted as his eyebrows lifted, and he wanted to ask just why Ned kept a knife handy on his person, but that was not before the man shot across the field, already stalking his opponent from behind a shrub.

Jacob was stunned momentarily before he too took off, creeping across the yard and around the outdoor court, sticking to the shadows, just as he likes it. A living shadow. He rounded a corner nearby to his guard, getting into position.

Ned flagged him down, and they nodded at each other. The two waited in silence for the perfect moment to strike, and when the lookouts inched a bit too close to Jacob and Ned, they darted forward, dragging both guards behind the bush where they quickly subdued them.

When the moment was over Jacob pointed a finger towards the back corner of the Palace where the coppers used to be stationed. Jacob crossed the patio and crouched against the wall, waiting for Ned to meet back up with him again.

Ned followed his lead, stepping silently up a couple of steps as he traversed the patio as well, coming up next to Jacob and facing him.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” Jacob murmured, cocking his head over to the hidden bodies of the two former guards.

“Doesn’t matter. I don’t like to get my hands dirty, but I will if need be,” Ned said, glasses flickering silvery moonlight off of them.

“Alright, no need to get mysterious on me. Wait here, and if things go down, don’t wait up for me. Head back to the train as quickly as you can, got it?” Jacob asked, nudging Ned on the shoulder.

“Yeah. Don’t die on me, you hear?” Ned jokingly whispered, but Jacob could sense a tinge of anxiety in his voice.

“I promise.” Jacob nodded one last time before looking up at the daunting wall of the Palace.

Jacob and Ned shared a passing, lingering stare between them, with Jacob inhaling slowly as he scanned over the Palace’s polished walls. He rested a hand on the marble, eyes darting over potential ledges he could grab onto. Without hesitation, he gripped onto the wall, and climbed upwards.

Jacob started the initial climb up the gleaming stone wall with an air of almost impassivity, pausing his ascent upwards for only a second to take into consideration the multiple shallow creases his fingers _might_ be able to dig into, the numerous bronze light sconces affixed to the outside that looked ample to mount.

He tensed his muscles, preparing to leap, and exhaled when he jumped up and felt the solid ledge of a window beneath his hands. Jacob’s fingertips trailed the edge of the window frame, and he hauled himself up with a short grunt as he adjusted his weight on the slim crack below him.

Eyes flickering above him, Jacob lurched upwards again, hands grasping for another window as his feet scrambled for purchase on the smooth wall. The marble façade was polished and sleek against his palms, stone slightly chilled from the night breeze.

Jacob sniffed a bit to thaw his nose, noticing gentle golden light slipping down from an open window. He strained his neck to look inside, glad to see that no one was stationed nearby.

_Easy point of access. Just what I’m looking for._

Jacob smiled before heaving himself up yet again, taking one more quick look down to make sure no one had spotted him. He gave Ned a wave, and clamped down on the ledge above him, hauling his body in through the open window.

He fell forward into the massive corridor, landing smoothly on his feet with the expertise of a master assassin, ensuring that he wouldn’t make a sound. Jacob raised his eyes from his boots, mouth falling agape as his gaze slid across the expansive hall before him.

He slowly stood up, eyebrows hitting his hairline, blinking in astonishment. “Seems like the King and Queen certainly have an affinity for grandeur…” Jacob huffed as he shook his head indignantly, eyes open wide.

All around him, in every corner and crevasse, intricate gold patterns spiraled across the walls and columns, velvety red wallpaper displayed boldly against the lustrous white framework of the passageway. Jacob was silent as he glanced down the endless shimmering hallway, noting the multitude of expensive installations and furniture dotted about.

He took a few hesitant, awestruck steps forward, his boots reverberating with tiny echoes as he gazed around the corridor as if it were a gallery. It might as well be, with all the priceless, brilliant paintings hanging liberally on the pristine walls, each depicting unique points in history as well as exhibiting the impressive heritage of the royal family.

Gas lights affixed around the hall illuminated its entirety with ease, and Jacob couldn’t stop his fingertips from trailing along the white leather edges of a lounger, eyes firmly spellbound by the Palace floor’s elaborate design.

Spirals upon spirals of bold red flowers circled an orange wreath of leaves, with alternating yellow circles locked within a blue pattern. The marble alone must have cost a fortune, and Jacob could only wonder what a place that supplied such magnificent flooring would look like.

Jacob stepped into a circular parlor attached to the hallway, eyes lingering on the lone grand piano in the room, the only decoration aside from a few chairs and long red curtains that gently swayed in the breeze.

It was incredible, _God_ , it was so incredibly brilliant that a part of Jacob could stay there forever without nicking a thing, just so he could inspect every last fragile vase and every statue and every glimmering fireplace that Buckingham Palace had to offer.

But, he was still Jacob Frye. Still a lowly assassin who murders for a living and tucks widow’s wedding rings into his back pockets if he knows he’ll make some coin out of it. He is a man who is not meant for greatness.

The sudden, desperate reality of it all was enough to pull Jacob out of his slack-jawed admiration of the Marble Hall, enough to ground him so he could notice that he was getting dangerously close to a guard patrolling the connecting rooms.

Jacob slid quickly behind a wall, pressing his ear to the door frame in order to make out the lookout’s faint steps. He closed his eyes, ceasing his breathing, becoming as still as possible to locate his adversary. Within a second, he knew where the guard was.

He slipped into the room, agile body ducking behind a Chinese divider, fingers moving up the fabric and clutching onto the frame. Jacob peeked around its side as if he was hunting down prey, ready to attack at the slightest provocation. The unfortunate watchman’s boots came into view, and in a blink of an eye Jacob yanked him behind the divider, shoving his hidden blade into the man’s neck.

Without so much as a sound, Jacob hauled the dead man’s body up and onto his shoulder, gritting his teeth slightly from the weight. He eyed the open doors across the room, staying still momentarily to try and locate any other unfortunate enemies within his radius, but was pleased to find the hall to be silent.

Jacob exhaled, wrapping his arms tighter around the patrol’s corpse, and tip-toed through the gallery, ducking around a few more couches and tables. He gave one last look to the doors as he approached an open window, the night winds disguising his light steps.

He tipped his head outside of the window, glancing downwards to see if there were any guards in the relative area that would be less than happy to receive a dead body on their heads. The darkened, tree-lined manor was quiet underneath the moon lit sky, and Jacob wasted no time in shoving the watchman’s body from his shoulders and out the Palace’s window.  

Jacob waited for the tell-tale thud of a body hitting the grass, and then crouched down again, senses already alert and waiting for another sound within the manor. When he was satisfied with the silence, he smiled to himself, thankful that the Palace guards seemed to be more likely nodding off in a back corner than doing their actual jobs.

Alright. Time to find something for good old Ned that would put the Crown Jewels to shame.

Jacob tucked his hand into his pockets, absently rubbing the hidden blade within his gauntlet as he strolled through the empty rooms, noticing the various themes they were decorated with. One room, he was in ancient China, and the next, military uniforms and paintings of generals lined the walls.

Here he was, Jacob Frye, staring up at the expressionless face of one of the Queen’s uncles, completely calm and alone in Buckingham Palace itself, with no guards in sight. He thought about Evie catching him here, surrounded by glimmering crystals and golden statues, and chuckled at the thought of her explosive reaction to it.

At least Ned could appreciate the _finer_ things in life.

Jacob continued to saunter through the hallways, pausing here and there to consider if it was possible to stuff a few chairs and vases into his pockets, fingertips trailing along cabinets filled to the brim with fine china and polished silverware that haven’t seen a day of use in their lives.

Before exiting the passageway and descending upon the massive grand staircase, Jacob eyed a chest tucked away in the corner. It was a hand-crafted, old thing, dusted in gold and swirling trimmings, with a lock that looked perfect for Jacob to pick.

He stopped walking, turning his head both sides to check for any patrols, and then crouched next to the chest, rummaging through his pockets to find a lock pick for the job. He grumbled as his fingers felt over misplaced coins and pistol bullets, fishing through assorted grenades and smoke bombs for his frustratingly tiny lock picks.

Finally, a lock pick found itself in Jacob’s palm, and he sighed as he pulled it out of his cloak. He shuffled closer to the chest, gently placing his pick into the lock’s delicate machinery. Jacob twisted his hands in tiny, miniscule motions, hoping to find the release mechanism.

He held his breath, not wanting to go diving in the recesses of his coat pockets for another lock pick if he snapped this one. Slowly, slowly, he turned his fingers, smiling at his little victory when he heard the familiar click of the lock opening.

Jacob tucked his sturdy pick back into his cloak, his gloved hands coming up underneath the chest’s heavy lid and prying it open. He threw back the top, quickly grabbing onto its sides so it didn’t bang against the back of it and awake the entirety of Westminster.

 He let go softly, falling forward onto his knees to get better leverage into the overflowing chest. Jacob made quick work of sifting through the average paperwork and forgotten trinkets carefully wrapped within the trunk.

Jacob hummed as he picked up a few of the documents, eyes catching on words like “Parliament” and “Queen”, and most importantly, “Crawford Starrick”. He folded them up and slipped the papers into his pocket for later examination, his fingers trailing along the edge of something smooth with sharp edges.

He plucked it out of the mess and opened his palm, delighted to see a bright, heavy gem staring back at him. Jacob pocketed it into his cloak and searched through the chest again. He murmured to himself as he picked up artifacts and valuables and placed them at his side.

“Dull…uninteresting…useless,” Jacob absently whispered as he sorted through the items, grabbing a handful of shining gold coins and stuffing them into his pockets.

Before he went to close the trunk’s lid, Jacob noticed the darkened handle of what seemed to be a blade sticking out of the strewn papers in the chest. He leaned forward, gently wrapping his hand around the end of it, and lifted it up.

Jacob felt the steady weight of the Kukri in his hand, nodding at it as he inspected it. He took one last glance at the chest’s valuables before grabbing the top and gently shutting it closed again. Jacob stood up, the blade in hand, and kicked the lock underneath the china cabinet, hoping the guards wouldn’t look too closely at the broken trunk.

He’d already been in here too long; he needs to get back to Ned before the guy chews him out for spending so much time up in the Palace. Jacob walked away from the chest and towards the master staircase, going briefly over to the railing to check for guards.

He’s about to start descending the staircase, valuables jangling within his pockets, when he paused, glancing up at the gleaming white and gold ceiling. Above him, the moon cuts through the clouds and through the giant glass dome affixed in the ceiling, illuminating an expansive crystal chandelier dangling from it.

Jacob leaned on the railing, seeing how the light seemed to trickle down the chandelier’s hundreds of crystals and spill onto the grand staircase, the gold wall decorations contrasting with the vibrant red fabric of the staircase. It’s positively exquisite, and Jacob lets himself play in the fantasy of a King.

He grinned as he took slow steps down the stairs, fingers sliding down the curved railing as he imagined himself wrapped in silks and holding a cane. _King Jacob Frye_ , he thought. What a proper title for himself.

But enough with the silliness- there’s a stubborn 5’5 businessman waiting for him outside the mansion.

It’s dark enough in the Palace’s stairwell that Jacob blends in with the night as he strays to the far side of it, looking ahead into the brightened lower floor of the manor for a possible escape route. Jacob neared the end of the grand staircase, keeping the grip on his new blade tight in case he ran into any unexpected patrols.

Jacob hopped off the final step, hurriedly ushering himself into the corner when he spotted a watchman lazily check the gallery, stifling a yawn with a gloved hand as he tiredly studied a painting. Jacob evened out his breathing, watching the guard and waiting for him to move.

After a moment of stillness, the patrol seemed satisfied that there was no one around him, and he continued with his rounds, finally going around a corner at the very end of the hallway. Jacob sighed and stood up, absently checking behind himself for any more rogue lookouts.

“Shit,” someone whispered in front of Jacob, and the two bumped into each other.

Hastily, Jacob grabbed the stranger and shoved the two of them into a dark corridor, unsure whether it’s Ned or a guard who needs a hidden blade in his sternum. Jacob felt his way up the man’s slender nose, fingertips stopping just short of his hat. “Poncy glasses. Bowler cap. Ned, didn’t expect to find you here!”

“The one and only. Now get your grubby hands of me you animal, you smudged up my glasses,” Ned grumbled in the dark, Jacob seeing the outline of his short frame struggling to wipe the grime off of his spectacles.

Jacob felt lightheaded with the fact that Ned was so close to him, like he had an utterly hopeless heart in him and he was about to burn up with it. His cheeks were hurting from his grin and at this point, and he was just glad that the night around them covered it up.

“Hey, how’d you get in here, Wynert? And _why_ are you in here, actually?” Jacob mumbled, his chest feeling syrupy.

“I snuck past the patrols. You… were taking too long. Didn’t want to find my favorite Frye twin in the hands of the Palace coppers,” Ned responded, and Jacob realized that his hands were still on Wynert’s shoulders.

He pulled back, composing himself. “Alright. Yeah- yeah, we should get out of here.”

“Just follow my lead. I found a path where the lookouts don’t check around,” Ned stated, tearing his eyes off of Jacob and around the corner, where the lone watchman was still in the back corner.

Jacob nodded at him, and Ned lifted his index finger to his lips, instructing him to remain silent. Silently, the two of them crept forward, sticking to the edge of the polished marble walls of the lower hallway, Ned leading him past the first corridor and into a second one.

The duo rushed through the Palace, keeping on their toes, barely making a sound save for Jacob’s light footfalls. They descended through what felt like a maze of the same fancy staterooms and dining rooms, guards only periodically showing their faces.

Ned was better at this than Jacob had anticipated; Jacob definitely needed to bring him along on more frivolous excursions like this. He imagined Ned, sporting Jacob’s cloak and hat, swiftly running aside him in a scouting mission or bounty hunt, face deathly serious although Jacob’s coat would no doubt fall past his ankles.

Jacob gave Ned a little wave when he checked to see if the Frye twin was still behind him, earning a tiny scoff from the other man. It seemed like they were getting closer to the front of the Palace, judging by how whenever Jacob glanced through the tall glass windows, the manor’s front driveway got closer and closer.

Before they were in the front parlor, whoever, Ned nudged Jacob’s side, grabbing his arm and directing them instead to take a long corridor the lead away from the exit and instead towards the back courtyard. Jacob followed closely, trusting that Ned hadn’t taken them the wrong way.

“One last room,” Ned whispered, walking through the doorway and pushing open a door in the back.

Ned held it open, gesturing for Jacob to go ahead and exit. Jacob took off his top hat and bowed to him jokingly, tipping it back onto his head before stepping out in the courtyard. He turned and waited for Ned to follow, seeing the man quickly grab an expensive-looking ashtray before scurrying out the door.

“An ashtray? Didn’t know you were a smoker, Ned,” Jacob giggled, nudging his side.

“Sod off. I’m going to sell it, of course. I wasn’t just going into the Palace to find your ass and come out with nothing,” Ned laughed, punching Jacob in the shoulder.

“Hey, you two! Get back here!” a stranger’s voice shouted, cutting through the momentarily amiable air settling around Jacob and Ned. _Damn_. So much for being stealthy.

“Run,” Jacob murmured, eyes brighter than the stars above them, grabbing Ned’s hand and slipping their fingers together, snickering as they ran for the tree line.


End file.
